half-past twelve: you said so yourself at first, when Robert wanted to fetch us.'

"Yes,' replied Rose, catching at her chance; but when Walter came it was different: you see he always knows what it is right to do.'

"Yes, but you would not let me tell him what mother had said to us. Oh! I wish I had not been disobedient, it makes me so unhappy!'

'Well, suppose you go to sleep,' said Rose; 'it is of no use to lie awake all night. But we have not said our hymn yet.'

So the two children repeated verse by verse that pretty hymn which begins,

'We are but little children weak.'

'Now, good night,' said Rose, and don't let us have any more talking.' So Amy turned her little head round on the pillow and tried to go to sleep; but it was impossible for her. The last verse of the hymn kept ringing in her ear,—

'There's not a child so small and weak
But has his little cross to take,

His little work of love and praise,
That he may do for Jesu's sake.'

She felt that she had not done to-day her little work of love for Jesu's sake. And then she seemed to see her mother's sad face, and to hear her say in her sweet voice, 'I think I can trust my little ones.'

Poor little Amy! she went on thinking of all these things till the tears rolled down her checks. She smothered her head under the clothes, so as not to disturb her sister. But Rose could not help hearing the smothered sobs, and her heart was touched by them.

'What is it, Amy?' she asked, with a loving voice.

But Amy tried in vain to answer. Then Rose stepped out of bed, and went up to her little sister, who whispered, 'It's all because we've been so naughty. I know we have,

Rosie, and mother would be unhappy. Besides,' she added solemnly, 'you know Who sees all we do:

"And our most secret actions lie

All open to Thy sight."'

Rose wished now that she had not fallen into the temptation, but she was determined that no one should know of her fault; and therefore she must, if possible, make her sister forget all about it.

'Never mind now, dear,' she said, kissing her. 'If there was any fault in the matter it was mine, not yours; of course you had to do what Walter and I told you, so you need think no more about it. And you

may be quite sure we know best what it was right to do.'

Amy was just a little comforted by her sister's gentleness, and with one last gulp she managed to check her sobs.

'Poor little thing!' thought Rose, as she gave a last look to the flushed face; 'she is a better child than I am, after all. Oh! how I wish—— Well! it can't be helped

now.'

(To be continued.)

FAITH.

N our picture is an old woman wrinkled and carved by the sorrows of life, seeking for consolation from the best of all sources. In the evening of her days, and alone in the waning light of departing day, she, after the study of her Bible, clasps her hands, and looking heavenwards with straining eyes, exclaims, with fervent living faith, Whom have I in Heaven but Thee? and there is none upon Earth that I desire beside Thee.'-Ps. lxxiii. 25. [See page 389.]

DELIA'S
DIFFICULTIES.

LEASE, Aunt Helena,
would you tell us how
Delia first came to live
here? She often says
that when she was quite
a little child she passed
through many trials and
difficulties, but we did.
not like to ask her more.'
'Let us sit down on

this soft grassy bank, and I will tell you how I became acquainted with Delia.-I went one day with my mother to a railway station in London to meet some friends. When the train arrived, and she was busy with them, I amused myself looking at the people as they passed, and my attention was caught by a little girl who stepped out of a third-class carriage, holding a large bunch of primroses. I dare say it was the flowers as much as the child which attracted me, but I went over and spoke to her.

"What pretty fresh primroses you have got! where did they come from?"

"I gathered them this morning, miss," she replied, "to put me in mind of home," and her bright eyes filled with tears. "Father died, and we have been obliged to give up our little farm; so mother and I came off here, for we've been told there is plenty of work to be got, and there's nothing for us to do at home. London's a fine place, but they say flowers don't grow in it, so I brought these with me."

"What's your name?" I asked.
"Delia Telford," she replied.

“Well, Delia, would you mind parting with some of those primroses? for I would like to buy them from you. I used to live in the country, too, and they remind me of my old home."

"I never heard of any one selling the wild flowers that grow of themselves," said Delia, as she divided her bunch of primroses, and gave me half, refusing to receive any payment.

'I told her that it was quite a common thing to sell flowers in London. Delia then went off with her mother, and it seemed unlikely that I should ever know how she was getting on in the great city. But just a year after our first meeting, as I was walking with one of my brothers, a little girl came up, holding in her hand two or three small bunches of faded primroses. "Will you buy a bunch of primroses, miss?" she said. Then, looking into my face, she blushed and smiled.

"Are you Delia ?" I exclaimed; "and have you been ill? or what is the matter?"

"Yes, miss, I'm Delia, and I have not been ill; but poor mother has, and she's not able to work any more: so I am trying to sell these few flowers to get us some food. I'm afraid they're a little faded now."

'I looked at the girl herself, who seemed drooping also, and, oh, so changed since I had seen her arrive fresh from the country a year before! I had been going with my brother to choose a book, but I could not help saying,

"I will buy them from you, Delia; I am sure they will revive in water!" and taking the primroses, I handed her two-andsixpence, which was all the money I had.

'Her face brightened, her eyes filled with tears, as she thanked me, and said, "Now I shall have something to bring mother."

'How much happier I felt than if I had bought the book! Determined not to lose sight of her any more, I asked where she lived, and I promised to go and see her mother. She gave me the address and hurried off."

(Concluded in our next.)

spent the whole day with their brothers in the meadows.

In the course of the afternoon Mrs. Turner came home, unexpectedly. The delight of the children was great at finding her at the head of the table when they were called in to tea. Walter ran up to her, put his arms round her neck to give her a hearty welcome; then he made inquiries for his uncle, and was told that he was not so much hurt as was at first feared.

I am glad of that,' said the boy; 'I'm so fond of Uncle Joseph.'

When it was time for the little girls to go to bed, and they went round to say 'good night' to every one in the room,

Rather too soon to please you, I expect,' replied the father. "Who'll come down with me after breakfast? I must go round the meadows, and see how they are getting on.'

'I will,' said Amy. And I will' was echoed by every voice.

"Hark!' cried Rose, 'I hear the cuckoo.' They were sitting with the window thrown open, and the bird was perched on a tree two or three fields distant, so the song was plainly heard.

6

This is the last month you'll hear him,' said the father; he flies away early in July.'

'Where does he go?' asked Rose.

'Back to his own country, which is warmer than ours. The common cuckoo lives in Northern Africa and Asia Minor, and comes to England every spring to gladden us with his pretty note; but this country would be too cold for him in the winter.'

Breakfast over, the girls hastened off to put on their hats, and quickly followed into the hayfield. There was plenty of amusement there, so, except for the short time which had to be given up to music, they

good children, and the boys too.

'Of course we have, mother,' said Walter, in his usual bright tone.

All of you?' she asked again, looking especially to the girls.

"Yes,' said Rose, hanging down her head with a sense of shame; while Amy answered again, as she had already answered her father, I've tried to be good, mother.' A very truthful reply, for she certainly had tried very hard, though she had given way at last.

Mrs. Turner noticed that there was something wrong; it was so unusual for Rose to hang her head, and Amy seemed almost afraid to speak. However, she said nothing more about it, but told the children that she and their father were planning a trest for them.